The Breaking of a Stonewall

[heinz]

Chains. Chains and darkness was all Heinz knew anymore. It was some time since the Hauptman of the 21st Panzer Division had seen the outside. He had been incarcerated since May of 1940 for defying the direct orders of Erhard Strumfelder, a Lieutenant in the 2nd Division of the Waffen SS. Strumfelder had the man subsequently locked up. Wagner did not know now how long he would be held here. He only knew that it had seemed all but an eternity. Heinz was now only a mere shadow of what he once was. He no longer wore the proud dress of a Wehrmacht officer. He was reduced to a small piece of fabric that merely passed as clothing. His muscles, which were once large from the years of training, were now decaying and atrophying from months of confinement. His face, once beautiful and shining, was now gaunt and bony from months of malnutrition. Heinz was merely a shell of his former self.

Still, this fact did not quell the hatred burning within Heinz’s heart. On the other hand, these months of neglect had only strengthened the hatred inside of Heinz for the SS. They were vermin and dogs in his mind. How dare they treat an officer, loyal to Germany, like this? That question was played in Heinz’s mind every single day, and yet, he received no answer. He had no contact to give him his answer. The only contact he had with man in these last months was the tray of slop that was thrown from the small hole in his cell door toward him. To this answer, Heinz would merely put the tray, still filled with food, by the door, eating only a meager portion of it. This was not food. Hell, even the rats, which had access to the cell through a small hole in the wall, wouldn’t eat the food. Any other contact Heinz had with the outside world came through the laments and cries of other victims of torture, committed by this totalitarian regime. This only made Heinz hate Hitler more.

How did this crazed lunatic come to power anyway, and what must I do to get him out of power? This question festered in Heinz’s mind like a rotting corpse left in the hot, sweltering sun of Tunisia. He remembered the early 1930s and the message of superiority and entitlement that Hitler instilled in the German people. Heinz loved the man then. Then again, at that time, Heinz was a naïve fool. He didn’t really care who he followed. He just wanted to follow something. He just wanted to kill something. Then, through the policies of men like Goebbels, Heinz learned to hate the SS. They acted as if they were superior to the Wehrmacht in every way, shape, and form, and Heinz resented them for this. Now, Heinz could only hope that he could get out of this damned place. Hell, he didn’t even know where the hell this prison he was in was located.

It was now middle November and a steady rain was falling over the prison in which Heinz was stationed. Heinz felt the cool breeze from the small window in his cell, and the patter of the cold rain soothed the decrepit officer, whose body now ached from the months of neglect. Heinz lay now on a steel bunk in his cell, which was directly under the window. From here, Heinz could feel the rain drops, which ricocheted off of the window’s concrete base and splashed onto Heinz’s body. It felt great, as it was the first time in months that Heinz had connected with the outside world. He longed now, once again, to see the world, but he knew this was not possible, for as long as he held anti-SS sentiment, he would not see the light of day. Still, he would rather die in this dilapidated, dark, damp, and mangy cell room than acquiesce to the likes of Hitler, Himmler, Goering, Hess, and Goebbels.

A new sound came from down the hallway outside Heinz’s cell room. Footsteps. Peculiar, Heinz thought. It was nowhere near dinner time, and even then, dinner was usually served late, usually after night had fallen. Heinz was stirred by this sound, and he shot up from his bunk. The footsteps came closer to Heinz’s door, and by this time, ice was shooting through Heinz’s veins. He knew what this was. It was the SS. Those bastards were coming for him now. He knew that most likely they would take him outside, and they would shoot him in the back of his head. That is, if he were lucky. Heinz smirked, and he muttered to himself “Das Gift der Giftschlange ist der Tod von mir.” Heinz did not know the name of the viper which he spoke about. It had been too long. All he knew was the man was horribly disfigured and cold. Now, Heinz figured, he was coming to kill him for his offense against the SS. Heinz clutched his palms into fists. He would take death bravely.


Translation
"The Viper's Poison will be the death of me."

[Otto Wolff]

The sound of several pairs of jackboots echoed from the cement walls of the long corridor as four men made their way past the seemingly endless rows of cell doors. Each door had a sturdy lock and a small metal lid which could be slid away, enabling the guard to glance inside the cell. The doors also had bigger metal lids for distributing food to the prisoners. This way the prisoners could be kept in perfect isolation for long periods of time, slowly making their minds crumble, forcing them to succumb to the will of their captors. If this was not enough to convince the prisoners into seeing things the right way, there were other rooms for the systematic and cruel torture of the detainees.

Otto Wolff had been in the Geheime Staatspolizei since 1933, the year the new secret police had been instated, and possessed a great amount of knowledge when it came to the subject of breaking a person's mind. The dark-haired and broad-shouldered officer of Gestapo stood taller than the other men in his company and carried a dark scowl on his face all the time. His determined step and the way he carried himself had an air of old Weimarian pride to them. The man looked to be around fifty years old and he carried his decorations from the Great War proudly on his black Allgemeine SS -uniform. Otto was accompanied by a SS guard, a young Sturmscharführer and another, slightly lower ranking Gestapo officer. The guard was leading the group along the corridor, the keys jingling as he walked. No doubt the prisoners heard them outside in the corridor and were most likely moving away from the door fearfully, just waiting for their cell door to open. One could never know for what purpose they might be dragged out of their cells and some of them never returned.

The guard and the Sturmscharführer stopped in front of one of the cells, but Otto and the younger Gestapo officer continued on along the corridor. They stopped at the other end of the hallway, the lower ranking man opening the door for Otto. The interrogation room was very ascetic, sporting a simple table and two wooden chairs, a metal sink and no windows at all. The floor and the walls were hard concrete and there was a small, metal-covered floor drain in the middle of the room, making one wonder if it was there just so that it would be easier to wash off the blood after the interrogations.

Meanwhile in the cell, the guard took one short glance at the prisoner from the small peephole before opening up the lock. The SS guard scoffed at the sight of the pitiful prisoner, while the Sturmscharführer only looked mildly amused at the current state of the once proud man. The guard grunted, producing a pair of handcuffs from his belt and nodding at the withered prisoner. "Jemand will ein Wort mit Ihnen haben," the man said briefly. "Bewegt euch!" The order was enhanced by a kick to the prisoner's side and the Sturmscharführer wielded a baton in his other hand menacingly, ready to give the prisoner a good smack if he decided to give them trouble. The guard was quickly grabbing the Hautpmann's wrists, snapping the handcuffs on them in a seasoned manner. The Sturmscharführer moved in to grab the prisoner by his arm and the two SS men pulled him roughly to his feet.

The two men dragged the Hauptmann out of his cell, hardly giving him any time to react. The Hauptmann would have surely gotten mixed up with his own feet and fallen down if it hadn't been for the fact that his captors were practically carrying the man between them, holding him by his both arms. They escorted the Hauptmann to the other end of the corridor and pushed him inside the room, steadying the man up and even giving him a chance to stand up straight for a while.

The tall Gestapo officer was studying a file when the interrogatee was brought into the room and he did not even so much as glance at the Hauptmann. He only motioned towards the chair and the younger Gestapo officer pulled the wooden chair from under the table, slamming it in the middle of the floor. The SS men pushed the Hauptmann forwards, roughly forcing him to sit down on the chair. Otto still did not glance at the prisoner and kept his eyes on the papers. He only nodded briefly and muttered a thank you, which the SS men took as a sign to leave the Gestapo to their work. They exited the room and the metal door slammed shut, the sound echoing in the room for a while.

Otto finally averted his eyes from the papers, nodding at the wilted man in handcuffs. It was hard to believe that this man had once been a proud Hauptmann of the Wehrmacht, the way he looked now. Otto considered it a shame, really, but on the other hand he held no sympathy for those who opposed the party. Unlike many other men in the SS, he held a good amount of respect even towards the members of the Wehrmacht, if they were deserving of such respect.

"Hauptmann Heinz Wagner," Otto started, his voice low and smooth, almost benevolent. "Guten Tag. Ich bin Kriminalkommissar Wolff, und ich soll Ihnen hier einige Fragen heute stellen. Ich hoffe, dass wir etwas allgemeines Verstehen erreichen und mit diesen Formalitäten ohne viel Schwierigkeit getan werden können."

The younger Gestapo officer was standing next to the table, his hands behind his back and Otto moved closer to the Hauptmann, eyeing him carefully, the folder still in his hand. Otto might have already seen his younger years, but the gaze of his dark eyes was sharp and calculating, giving an impression of a man not easily fooled, one that lived for his work and nothing else. He stopped a few paces from the Hauptmann, speaking again. "Ich werde nicht zögern. Sie sind angeklagt worden, wegen Handlungen gegen die Nationale Sozialistische Partei, Feindschaften gegen die Mitglieder von SS zu nehmen, defätistische Erklärungen abgebend und am Ordnen eines Steigens gegen das Reich teilnehmend. Ich möchte die Namen Ihrer Partner wissen. Je schneller Sie meine Bitte erfüllen, desto schneller wir alle dieses Zimmer verlassen können."

"Also, bitte, Herr Hauptmann. Ich wünsche keine weiteren Schwierigkeiten auf Sie. Geben Sie mir einfach die Namen," the last words of the Kriminalkommissar were spoken in a low, husky tone, the tall man leaning in just slightly to look at the Hauptmann.


Translations:

"Jemand will ein Wort mit Ihnen haben."
"Someone wants to have a word with you."

"Bewegt euch!"
"Get moving!"

"Guten Tag. Ich bin Kriminalkommissar Wolff, und ich soll Ihnen hier einige Fragen heute stellen. Ich hoffe, dass wir etwas allgemeines Verstehen erreichen und mit diesen Formalitäten ohne viel Schwierigkeit getan werden können."
"Good day. I am Kriminalkommissar Wolff and I am here to ask you a few questions today. I'm hoping that we can achieve some common understanding and be done with these formalities without much difficulty."

"Ich werde nicht zögern. Sie sind angeklagt worden, wegen Handlungen gegen die Nationale Sozialistische Partei, Feindschaften gegen die Mitglieder von SS zu nehmen, defätistische Erklärungen abgebend und am Ordnen eines Steigens gegen das Reich teilnehmend. Ich möchte die Namen Ihrer Partner wissen. Je schneller Sie meine Bitte erfüllen, desto schneller wir alle dieses Zimmer verlassen können."
"I shall not tarry. You have been accused of taking actions against the National Socialist party, hostilities against the members of SS, making defeatist statements and taking part in arranging an uprising against the Reich. I wish to know the names of your associates. The faster you comply with my request, the faster we all can leave this room."

"Also, bitte, Herr Hauptmann. Ich wünsche keine weiteren Schwierigkeiten auf Sie. Geben Sie mir einfach die Namen."
"So, please, Herr Hauptmann. I wish no further trouble upon you. Simply give me the names."

[heinz]

The footsteps that were nearing the door seemed to get louder, and louder, and soon, it was all Heinz could hear. He concentrated on nothing but the footsteps. He knew it was the SS, and he knew he would most likely die. At this point, Heinz welcomed death. Death for him, a free thinking man, would be a victory for liberty, and a deathblow to the tyranny that was Adolf Hitler. The steps came closer and closer now, and then they stopped abruptly. Heinz sat down, as by this time, he was so deprived of any nutrients that even standing for a short amount of time became tiresome, and his muscles now screamed from their atrophic pain. A slot in the top of the doorway opened, and two beady eyes, red and exhausted from hours without sleep, looked through the door at Wagner. Heinz smirked back, and looked down at the ground, not wanting to show the man any respect, as he had no respect for a man of the SS. The door opened, and two SS men stood side by side in the entrance. One was a tall, muscle bound, hulk of a man, standing at least six foot five. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, as almost all Shutzstaffeln soldiers did. The other was of a lower rank. He was also the shorter and thinner of the two. His face was rather rugged, and his chin had a pronounced protraction to it. His hair was greased and combed back. He had an aura of arrogance about him, and he snickered at the sight of Heinz. Heinz looked down in repugnance. The other man, the taller and more muscular of the two approached Heinz now, and soon the other followed. Heinz still remained sitting in the middle of the room. The shorter one of the guards delivered a violent kick to the side of Heinz, digging deeply into his external oblique. Heinz writhed in pain on the floor, but he could do nothing about it, as soon, the larger of the two guards lifted him with ease and bound his hands in handcuffs. Heinz spat up blood, and it trickled slowly down his chin. He was so tired and so weak now that he couldn’t even stand, and his legs buckled. The two guards didn’t seem to care, and they jerked the Hauptman forward without a single morsel of compunction what so ever.

From there, the two men hauled Heinz down the hallway sternly. Heinz, too weak to even stand or think at the moment, did not put up a fight. His thoughts were centered on his life. He could remember clearly a rainy fall day like this, when he and his brother would roam the streets of Munich, laughing and playing, as well as causing havoc, as most young kids did. Oh how he missed these times. They were gone now, like rain on the mountaintops, like dew on the morning grass. They were only ephemeral memories of the past. They only brought but an ounce of euphoria, and still, this was not even tangible to Heinz now. All he could feel now was hatred and disgust for the SS. He could only accept his fate, and wait for the time of his death, when he would be reunited with his family. The sole survivor of the Wagner name would be coming home to rest, and now, Heinz could accept that.

Heinz’s thoughts were suddenly interrupted by being slammed down into a wooden chair in a room. Heinz had no clue where he was. He had assumed that he would have been taken outside, and the SS guards would have promptly shot him in the back of the head. Instead, Heinz was greeted by a bright light, which shined directly into his eyes. Heinz, who had been in that dark cell for too long, had now suffered the effects of the lack of use of his photoreceptors. His pupils, which had been long dilated before this, now screamed in agony from the brightness of the light. Heinz let out a grunt. He looked upward to a man on the other side of the table. Heinz’s vision was blurred from the dilation of his pupils, but he could vaguely make out the outline of a Gestapo officer. Heinz seemed puzzled as to why he was here. Surely, he thought, he would have been dead by now.

The Gestapo officer spoke. He said something about betraying the Reich, and how Heinz had other 21st soldiers in on the plan. Heinz had no idea on what the vile man was speaking about. He looked downward, not giving the man an inch. Heinz stayed silent for quite some time, trying to comprehend what he was being charged with. He then had an epiphany. Strumfelder. That bastard! That vile bastard set me up! Heinz thought. It was surely Strumfelder who was in the wrong in that situation, randomly approaching Heinz and Werner Von Maybach in that bar in Munich that one fateful night, just to start trouble, yet Heinz had been the blame of it all. Heinz now regretted even going out that night. If he would have known that Strumfelder would have done all of this just to make sure Heinz would die, he would have just drank a shot of whiskey within the confines of his home. Heinz still looked down at the floor, almost in apprehension as to what to say. Should he reveal Werner Von Maybach? Would that really set him free? No. Heinz knew what they would do. Once the name was revealed, the Gestapo officer would have his two sheep take the Hauptman out back and shoot him in the back of the head. Then they would hunt down Werner like a pack of dogs. Heinz, a career soldier, would never let a fellow 21st soldier to die. It would be treason to his father, a officer in the German army during WWI. It would be treason to Merhoff and the 21st, and it would be treason to Erwin Rommel and the whole Afrika Korps. Heinz would rather die a traitor to Hitler than live a traitor to Germany.

Heinz spat on the ground in defiance. He hissed at the officer, “Gehen Sie zum Teufel! Ich werde mit solchem Fäulnisungeziefer nicht sprechen!”


Translation
"Go to hell! I will not speak with such putrid vermin!"

[Otto Wolff]

The prisoner, once a proud Hauptmann of the Wehrmacht and now a mere shell of his former self, squinted his eyes in the bright lighting of the interrogation room. He had grown thin from malnutrition and apparently the SS men had been everything but friendly towards the man - Otto could see a trickle of blood running down the Hauptmann's chin. The Gestapo officer squinted his eyes, he knew who the man was and he knew he had gotten himself into trouble with an officer of the SS, one called Strumfelder. He was also well aware of the small confrontation between the said man and this Hauptmann, who at the time had been accompanied by another man from the 21st Panzer, Werner von Maybach. Otto himself had been there that night and he felt he had done a decent job with calming things up. Most likely Heinz Wagner did not even realize who Otto was, which was a shame. If he had remembered him, he might have seen Otto as a reasonable man and not just another face from the SS. It would have been of great help in the task Otto had been assigned with, but it was not crucial for success.

What the Hauptmann did not now, was the fact that Otto was familiar with von Maybach's father, they had served together in the Great War for a time. The Kriminalkommissar held a great deal of respect for the older von Maybach and he had steered the man's son clear of trouble easily enough. Von Maybach was safe, but it appeared that the Hauptmann was anything but. Otto usually trusted his sources, but this time he had his doubts. Did Heinz Wagner really know something about an uprising or was it just someone from the SS setting the man up? Otto hated the feeling of being used as a tool and the mere concept of this made the man narrow his dark eyes with distaste.

Whatever this was about, Otto still had his duty to fulfill and he was, first and foremost, a man dedicated to finishing up his tasks. Hauptmann Wagner did not react to Otto's questions at first and the man stared down at the floor, making the Gestapo officer wonder if the man was in too sorry a shape to even understand his words. Then the Wehrmacht officer spat on the ground, hissing venomous words at him. “Gehen Sie zum Teufel! Ich werde mit solchem Fäulnisungeziefer nicht sprechen!”

Otto arched an eyebrow, straightening up slowly and staring at the Hauptmann. It was surprising that the man still found strength to be so defiant, he had been in solitary confinement for a very long time. Still, Otto could understand the man. In some ways they were very much alike; proud, dedicated and not easily broken. It would be a sad sight to see the proud man's mind finally crumble, but he would break, Otto was sure of it. "Welches Mitleid. Ich dachte, dass Sie ein Ehrenmann waren, aber ich kann sehen, dass ich mich irrte. Wenn Sie sagen, dass Sie mit mir vielleicht nicht sprechen möchten, was Sie wirklich meinen, ist, dass Sie Ihre Information mit mir nicht teilen wollen?" the tall man asked in his low, steady voice. "Ist das es, Herr Hauptmann? Sie haben die Namen, aber sogar schließlich sind Sie durch gewesen, Sie weigern sich noch, sie aufzugeben."

The interrogation room fell silent for a moment and Otto walked around the Hauptmann and his chair, tracing a semi-circle and stopping behind him. The sound of his polished jackboots scraping the concrete floor was the only sound in the dreary room for a moment, but then the man spoke again. "Jene Männer des SS warten gerade, um ihre Hände auf Sie, Herr Hauptmann zu bekommen.. Ich Rat, dem Sie jetzt die Wahrheit sagen. Es gibt nichts im ständigen mit dieser hoffnungslosen Scharade von euch. Ich bin sicher, dass Sie es leichter finden würden zu denken, dass Sie bald getötet werden, diesen Albtraum zu beenden, aber das ist nicht, was sie wollen. Sie, werden fortdauernder schrecklicher Schmerz bewahrt, weg in Ihrer winzigen Zelle faulend, Tage, Wochen, Monate... Jahre. Aber das muss nicht so sein, ich kann Ihnen helfen, ich kann das für Sie beenden. Aber ich kann Ihnen nur eine mehr Chance geben," Otto's voice was low, pleasant and it vibrated deep from his chest, almost like a low purr. He stood behind Heinz Wagner so the man could not see him and all he could discern was the Gestapo officer's hypnotic voice.

"Die Namen, Herr Hauptmann."


Translations:

"Welches Mitleid. Ich dachte, dass Sie ein Ehrenmann waren, aber ich kann sehen, dass ich mich irrte..."
"What a pity. I thought you a gentleman, but I can see that I was wrong. When you say that you do not wish to speak with me, are you actually saying that you have the information, but just do not wish to share it with me?"

"Ist das es, Herr Hauptmann? Sie haben die Namen, aber sogar schließlich sind Sie durch gewesen, Sie weigern sich noch, sie aufzugeben."
"Is that it, Herr Hauptmann? You have the names, but even after all you have been through, you still refuse to give them up."

"Jene Männer des SS warten gerade, um ihre Hände auf Sie, Herr Hauptmann zu bekommen..."
"Those men of the SS are just waiting to get their hands on you, Herr Hauptmann.. I advice that you come clean now. There is no point in continuing with this hopeless charade of yours. I'm sure you would find it easier to think that you will soon be killed, to end this nightmare, but that is not what they want. You will be kept alive, enduring horrible pain, rotting away in your tiny cell for days, weeks, months... Years. But it does not have to be so, I can help you, I can end this for you. But I can only give you one more chance."

"Die Namen, Herr Hauptmann."
"The names, Herr Hauptmann."

[heinz]

The Gestapo officer did not seem to be phased by the words of Hauptmann Heinz Wagner, just as Wagner had expected. The man was proud. No, Heinz took that thought back. He was not proud. Rather, the man was blind. Blind at the fact that Hitler and the whole SS were corrupt, evil monsters and that he was no more than a mere puppet to them, just as expendable as Heinz was. Heinz laughed at the petty attempt by the officer to demean him. Then his attempt to get the names-- Who does the man think he is fooling? Heinz had been in the army for more than 25 years at this point. Did the Gestapo officer really think that such a frivolous insult would cause Heinz to crack, even though Heinz had nothing to share.

Heinz spat on the floor once more in defiance, but this time, he aimed for the boots of the Gestapo officer. He hated his very being, and if it weren’t for these handcuffs and the months of malnutrition, Heinz would have taken great liberty in strangling the man right then and there. Heinz would have taken great pleasure in killing the Gestapo officer. His weakness at this moment deprived him of that satisfaction, so he stuck to rancorous words. Heinz was livid at this point, and he barked back at the officer, saying with fury in his eyes, “Ihre unbedeutenden Beleidigungen werden mich, Sie Schaum nicht brechen! Ich verachte Sie! Ich hasse Sie! Ich werde in Ihre unbekümmerten Spiele nicht geben, wie ich nichts habe, um mich zu teilen! Ganz recht, Sie Marionette! Ich weiß nichts des Aufruhrs! Ich weiß nur auf meinen eigenen Hass zur Nationalen Sozialistischen Partei! Wenn meine Worte gegen dieses korrupte Ungeheuer, Hitler, andere veranlasst haben wiederzuröhren, dann, so, habe ich etwas getan, dass Recht nicht mich hat?”

At this point, Heinz would have continued to speak out against that bastard who was interrogating him, but he did not have the strength to even speak now. He was weak, and his body buckled. He seemed to sink from his chair, but was then grabbed violently again by the two guards, who propped him back up in his chair. Heinz began to cough violently, and he covered his mouth. By the end of the coughing fit, Heinz had hacked up his own blood, and it now covered his hands. Heinz lifted his hand up and chuckled, all the while the bright red of it was dripping down his arm. Heinz spoke once more, mumbling, “werde ein Märtyrer sterben, und ich werde stolz sterben. Sie werden mich behalten und mich töten, aber dieses Blut bedeuten lassen, dass Heinz Wagner der Tyrannei von Adolf Hitler nicht nachgab!” Heinz then took his hands, still bound together, and moved them across the table, marking it with his blood, symbolically showing his defiance toward the 3rd Reich.

At this, the Gestapo officer did not seem to be phased. He continued to speak, almost sure that he would get the answer he wanted from Heinz. He stated that these two guards wanted to maim and physically torture Heinz. The Hauptmann did not doubt this. His side still hurt from the violent shot delivered by one of the two vermin. He could only imagine what was in store for his body, but he was sure that he would not break. Heinz leaned back violently in his chair, and said pompously, “Tun Sie, was Sie beabsichtigen. Ich werde nicht brechen!” Heinz then smiled, knowing full well that these two men would be driven to the point of frustration. At which, they would have no choice but to kill Heinz. Heinz welcomed death. He would die a martyr, and he would die proud. Heinz’s father would be proud of his son for dying for Germany, and Heinz was ready to face him once more as a man, something he had been unable to do, as his father died in WWI. Heinz breathed in deeply and looked toward the lifeless ceiling of the interrogation room. He stared at a light fixture which was hanging from the ceiling, closed his eyes, and said quietly, but with a tone of acceptance, “Vorangehen. Ich bin Bereit.” He then braced himself for the hours of torture he would have to endure.


Translation

Your petty insults will not break me, you scum! I despise you! I hate you! I will not give into your mindless games, as I have nothing to share! That's right, you puppet! I know nothing of rebellion! I only know of my own hatred towards the National Socialist Party! If my words against that corrupt monster, Hitler, have caused others to rebell, then, well, I have done something right haven't I?


I will die a martyr, and I will die proud. You will keep me and kill me, but let this blood signify that Heinz Wagner did not give in to the tyranny of Adolf Hitler!

Do what you intend. I will not break!

Go Ahead. I am Ready.

[Otto Wolff]

The Hauptmann regarded Otto defiantly, spitting once again on the floor. Otto did not react to the prisoner's rebellious behaviour in any way, not even when a mixture of spittle and blood landed on his polished black jackboot. He merely paused for a brief moment before continuing with his speech, giving the Hauptmann's rebellion little regard. He could already see that just talking to the man would do little good, but he had already guessed as much. Many older officers of the Wehrmacht tended to be proud and stubborn, clinging to their sense of honour and pride until their very last moment, but it did not worry Otto very much. Everyone had a breaking point and so did Heinz Wagner.

Otto listened indifferently to Wagner's insults, casually folding his hands behind his back. The Hauptmann had to stop for a moment to cough up blood, but he only chuckled at his own sorry state, as if he had completely lost his mind. It was obvious that he was ready to face death, in fact, he welcomed it. The Hauptmann hoped that his venomous words would cause the Gestapo officer to fly into rage, to make a rash decision and have Wagner killed for his insolence. Otto had seen the same act several times before and it almost caused him to smirk. This man's powerless rage and hatred was nothing more but a futile waste of his energy. He could spit out blood and bold words as much as he wanted to, but he would tire of it eventually. And Wagner would realize that trying to make the Gestapo officer angry was a hopeless task, Otto was much more smarter than that.

The Hauptmann challenged him, telling that the SS could do their worst to him for all he could care. Otto only nodded at the man, staying silent. His expression had not changed at all during Wagner's outburst and the black-clad officer only walked casually to the door. "Herren, bitte," he told the SS-men, the three men making their way out of the interrogation room, leaving the junior Gestapo officer in the room with Wagner. Otto rubbed his chin thoughtfully, waiting until the door was closed and he could speak to the two men without Wagner overhearing them. "Hier ist, was Sie tun sollen..." Otto started, going into a long explanation of just what he wanted done with the defiant Hauptmann. The SS-men listened in silence, a sly and devilish smile finding it's way on the smaller man's lips. He was looking forward to seeing the insolent Wehrmacht officer suffer.

Meanwhile in the interrogation room, the light-haired Gestapo officer stared at Wagner, appearing only impassive and maybe even slightly bored at the whole ordeal. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, appearing pleased once the door to the interrogation room opened up again. The Kriminalkommissar did not enter the room, but the two men from the SS did and the younger Gestapo officer took it as his cue to leave the room. Otto glanced at the Hauptmann, shook his head and closed the door, leaving Wagner in the room with the two SS soldiers. The shorter SS man moved gleefully towards the Hauptmann, grinning enthusiastically as he walked to the handcuffed man. He was carrying the police baton on his belt and the bigger man had a similar weapon in his hand now, it was clear what the man had in store for Hauptmann Wagner.

Both men stopped to savour the moment for a while, as if wanting to give the Hauptmann some time to consider the grueling moments still to come. Soon the bigger man grabbed the Hauptmann by his handcuffs, pulling the man roughly to his feet and making sure that the metal of the handcuffs bit painfully into the Hauptmann's skin in the process. The smaller man moved to the opposite wall to grab a chain hanging from a sturdy railing fixed to the ceiling. He pulled the chains along the railing, stopping them in the middle of the room and allowing for the other man to attach the Hauptmann's handcuffs on to a metal hook. As the metal chains were pulled up, they forced the prisoner to raise up his hands, until he was left hanging from his handcuffs, having to stand on his tiptoes. The guard pulled at the chain, attaching it to a hook on the wall and making sure it was locked in place.

This position naturally made the Hauptmann very vulnerable to any attacks and also completely incapable of defending himself - standing up was slightly difficult, but if the man slumped down, the handcuffs would bite painfully into his wrists. The two men took a while to sneer and gloat at the Hauptmann's misfortune, walking around the prisoner, knowing that he was already weak enough from the malnutrition to even stand up properly. Many prisoners tortured this way eventually ended up with dislocated shoulders, as they could be kept suspended up in such a manner for hours to an end. The men of the SS had more than that in their minds right now, and it didn't take too long for the first blow to land.

The police baton hit the Hauptmann square in his stomach and soon another one connected with the man's lower back. The SS men made sure that they hit the Hauptmann hard, but reluctantly held back the worst force of their strikes. They did not want the prisoner receiving any fatal injuries, he only had to suffer. A sudden hit caught the Hauptmann in the back of his knees, forcing the man's legs to buckle. The men gave Wagner some time to recover for a small while, before gleefully starting the merciless beating again.

Translation:

"Herren, bitte."
"Gentlemen, please."

"Hier ist, was Sie tun sollen ..."
"Here is what you shall do..."

[heinz]

Heinz's attempts to unnerve the Gestapo officer were, for the most part, fruitless. The officer almost seemed to be getting bored with the interrogation. That's when Heinz began to notice a sadistic glimmer in this eye. Heinz did not like this, and he knew what was going to happen. The Gestapo officer called the two SS men over, and they both began to smile sadistically as well. Heinz looked down, not trying to give them any acknowledgement. He wanted to forget this whole ordeal had ever happened, but it was too late now. He knew now that he would have to see things through, and that he, a brave and valiant Hauptmann of Germany, would have to show no fear in the face of adversity. The smaller of the two men pursed his lips as the Gestapo man whispered menacingly directions for torture. He licked his dry lips in anticipation of getting his hands on Heinz. The taller and more muscular officer merely got himself ready for the moment, cracking his knuckles and his neck in eager anticipation. The other, younger, and more Aryan looking officer stared at Heinz throughout this whole ordeal, and Heinz could only wonder what was going through his mind. Probably some meaningless Nazi propaganda, Heinz thought, and passed it off as nothing. Soon, the older of the two Gestapo officers finished speaking with his two henchmen, and the two of them walked into the room, eager to execute their orders. The other, younger Gestapo officer nodded at the older officer, and he too, left the room.

Once alone, the two SS men looked at each other with a fiery passion in their eyes. They smiled sadistically, and then they looked at Heinz. Heinz tried to pay them no attention by looking down, but he could see their looks through his peripheries, and their facial expressions frightened him a bit. Heinz soon found himself jerked violently to the floor by the taller of the two. Heinz felt an intense pain coming from his wrist, and he looked down, only to find a small, circular cut around his wrists from where the handcuffs were forced into his flesh. He had no time, however, to tend to his wounds, as the taller of the two SS officers manhandled him once more, lifting him up easily with one hand. The smaller SS officer then brought over a chain, which was attached to the ceiling via a sturdy pipe. The taller officer latched Heinz's handcuffs to the chain, and the smaller of the two then tightened the chain so Heinz could only touch the floor by plantar flexing his feet. The smaller of the two officers unclipped a baton from his belt, and began to move it up and down in his hand, smiling at Heinz all the while. The taller SS officer followed suit, and he took a spot behind Heinz. Then, the taller SS officer nodded to the smaller, his cue to engage Heinz. The smaller cackled maniacally, and he moved the baton back, and brought it forward with great vigor, straight into the stomach of Heinz. Heinz attempted to double over, but he couldn't; the chain prevented it. The taller of the two then followed it up with a shot of his own, straight to Heinz's kidneys. Heinz still tried to hide his pain, and he only grimaced at the amount of pain he was brought through. The smaller guard then took another shot; this time, to the chest of Heinz, which was quickly followed up by a shot to the knees from the taller officer, which buckled Heinz's knees, causing him to lift them upward. At this point, Heinz let out a scream, as the handcuffs began to seriously dig into his wrists.

For the next few minutes, the two guards let Heinz sway from side to side. His forearms were now a bloody mess from where the handcuffs had dug into his flesh. The smaller of the two laughed at the pitiful site. He then walked around Heinz, taking great pride in the amount of punishment he had put Heinz through. As he did this, the taller guard walked to the front of Heinz, and, grabbing his cheeks and pressing them together, said with a mocking tone of sadism, "Hatte Genug?" Heinz was too weak for a response. All he could do was simple nod his head no. The taller guard was delighted to see Heinz's bravery, as it meant he could impose his will on Heinz longer. "Aufsässig zum Ende?" the guard laughed as he dropped the baton and began to punch Heinz's solar plexus with everything he had. The sheer velocity of the punches knocked the wind out of Heinz, and Heinz began gasping for breath. Heinz's struggle for breath ended abruptly with a right hook across the face, which knocked Heinz out for a short duration of time.

While Heinz was knocked out, the taller officer barked an order the smaller of the two. "Sie bekamen jene Nägel?" He said inquisitively, pointing to a cart in the dark corner of the room. The smaller guard nodded maniacally, and answered in reply "Ja." He walked over to the cart, and upon bringing it into the light, four or five nails and a hammer were visible, along with a few other devices to torture their victims with, including a scalpel, a sharp pair of scissors, a few thick needles, a syringe, and a whip, and another chain with an extra cuff attached to it. The smaller guard picked up one of the nails and handed it to the larger guard, who had already picked up the hammer. The smaller guard then tore the fabric from the pants Heinz was wearing, uncovering his thigh. By this time, Heinz was coming to, and he could vaguely see the outline of a hammer, and he began to feel the nail as the guard pressed down with it. Heinz gritted his teeth, knowing full well what was coming. The guard moved the hammer back and then forward, driving the nail straight into the thigh of Heinz. The once proud Hauptmann let out a great cry of pain, but when inquired to talk, said nothing. So the guard took another nail and repeated the process. This time, Heinz began to sob, but he still remained silent.

By this time, the guards were becoming exasperated. The man had great resolve, but there were still many torture tactics to try to implement. The smaller of the two guards took another chain from the cart. He gave it to the taller guard, and began barking directions to him, saying "Nehmen Sie jene Ketten ab. Sieh diese Pfeife da drüben? Binden Sie diese Kette daran. Wenn er, fein nicht sprechen will. Er wird die Folgen bezahlen. Wir werden seine Arme aus ihren verdammten Steckdosen reißen und ihn zu asphxiate verlassen, aber wir werden ihn nicht töten. Wiederholen Sie gerade den proccess bis zu diesen Bastardgesprächen!" The taller guard nodded, and followed his orders, roughly separating the chains from the overhead pipe. Heinz fell to the ground roughly, breaking his index finger in the process. The Hauptman let out a cry of agony, to which the guards were completely apathetic. They stretched one chain out to a pipe hanging about 7 feet off the ground, which extended Heinz's left arm until it began to ache. It was out of it's plain of motion, and Heinz could feel the clavicle and the scapula ache at the acromion process. They did so with the other arm as well, only to a pipe sitting around 7 or 8 feet away from the holding his left arm, putting great strain on both shoulder joints. They then proceeded to tighten both of them. When they did this, Heinz immediately heard a crack in his shoulder, which was followed by an agonizing pain.
The two guards then left the interrogation room. Heinz was left in that room for a good hour, and it seemed like an eternity. While he was in there, Heinz began to fall prey to the Stockholm Syndrome in that he began to actually relate with the man he once called a fiend, Adolf Hitler. He realized that it was he, not Hitler who was in the wrong. Who was he to question the authority of the Fuhrer? Who was he to question the authority of one of the Fuhrer's men? He wanted now more than ever for the pain to stop, and he would do anything for Hitler for the pain to stop, even confess the name Von Maybach.



Translations
"Had Enough?"

"Defiant untill the End?"

"You got those nails?"

"Take those chains down. See that pipe over there? Tie this chain to it. If he doesn't want to speak, fine. He will pay the consequences. We will rip his arms out of their damn sockets and leave him to asphxiate, but we won't kill him. Just repeat the proccess until that bastard talks!"

[Otto Wolff]

The occasional cries of agony from the Hauptmann came out slightly muffled, but could still easily be heard by the two Gestapo officers standing outside the interrogation room. Otto did not react to them in any way, although he did not relish in having people tortured. Still, it was a necessary evil and if violence was needed to protect the security of the Reich, then Otto would not hesitate for a second to do what needed to be done. The SS men took their sweet time and Otto glanced at his watch every now and then, almost ready to open the door and tell the torturers to stop before they would kill the Hauptmann. He had no time to do so, as the door of the interrogation room suddenly opened up and the two SS men stepped outside, looking quite gleeful. Otto only frowned at this and said nothing, adopting a quizzical look on his face. The shorter man grinned slightly. "Wir verließen ihn dort, um uns eine Zeit lang zu beruhigen. Vielleicht wird er ein bisschen später zusammenarbeiten."

Otto grunted, glancing at his wristwatch. "Sehr gut. Wir werden ihm ungefähr eine Stunde der Zeit geben, um zu denken, und dann werde ich versuchen, mit ihm wieder zu sprechen. Sie sind sicher, dass er an seinen Verletzungen nicht sterben wird?"

"Oh Ja, wir sind sicher, Herr Kriminalkommissar. Er ist ein zäher Typ," the taller SS man said with a grin. Otto only glanced at him briefly, motioning for his assistant, Brenner to follow him. The men set off, leaving the SS men outside the interrogation room to guard the prisoner.

Almost precisely an hour later the Kriminalkommissar and Kriminalsekretär returned, walking along the corridor determinedly, both of Otto's jackboots shining clean once again. Otto told the guards to let him into the interrogation room and the door opened up with a loud, metallic clank. Otto could see that the Hauptmann had been suspended into a rather uncomfortable position from both of his hands, bleeding and beaten. Otto stood near the doorway, considering the man's condition, nodding after a small moment of silence. "Demütigen Sie ihn und verlassen Sie mich mit dem Hauptmann, ich möchte mit ihm allein sprechen."

The guards did not seem to like Otto's idea, but they did as they were told, proceeding to let the Hauptmann down and letting him slump down to the floor. The chains rattled as the men removed them, they didn't really bother being too gentle with their task. Otto waited quietly until the guards were done with their task and left the room, closing the door after them. The door slammed shut and the sound reverberated in the cold room for a moment. Otto's gaze was fixed on the beaten Hauptmann and he walked slightly closer to make sure that the man was conscious and in a state where he could still hear and understand his words. Wagner was in a bad condition, but not close to dying, not yet. It seemed that the guards had been quite thorough and had most likely very much enjoyed torturing Heinz Wagner. Otto stopped a few steps away from the Hauptmann, shaking his head. "Schauen Sie gerade auf sich selbst, Herr Hauptmann. Müssen wir zu diesen Längen gehen, um Sie zu überzeugen, dass das Entgegensetzen dem Führer wenig nützlich ist?" Otto asked, his voice as smooth and dark as earlier, although this time the Gestapo officer sounded almost regretful.

"Die ganze Zeit haben Sie das Verrotten in der Gefängniszelle, der fortdauernden Isolierung und dem Schmerz störrisch ausgegeben, Sie könnten dort gewesen sein, dienend und das Vaterland schützend. Was hat das alles vollbracht? Das Reich erzeugt stolze Männer, wahr zu ihrer Überzeugung, aber es erzeugt Dummköpfe nicht. Wir sind die Generation, die Deutschland zu einer neuen Höhe erheben wird, die Deutschen zur Position erheben, die wir rechtmäßig verdienen. Das ist die Führer's Vision und jemandes persönliche Absichten und Wünsche vor etwas ebenso ruhmvoll zu setzen, wie das Albernheit ist," Otto paused, letting his words sink in for a moment before speaking again.

"Sie müssen das sehen, Herr Hauptmann. Ich soll nur hier aburteilen und Sie Dinge klarer sehen lassen, ich bin nicht hier als Ihr Feind. Sie möchten dem Heimatland dienen, so viel wie ich tue, das verstehe ich, aber es gibt nur eine wahre Weise, das zu vollbringen. Sie müssen bereit sein, alles für Deutschland, gehorsam dem Führer zu opfern. Er hat eine große Aufgabe auf seine Schultern, und wir müssen unser Äußerstes für ihn tun. Möchten Sie nicht dort sein, die stolzen deutschen Soldaten in den Kampf um unser geliebtes Land bringend? Nicht, hier auf dem Fußboden in diesem mitleidsvollen Zustand liegend, hat Ihr blinder Hass Sie darauf reduziert. Wenn Sie gegen den Führer sind, sind Sie gegen Deutschland," Otto's voice did not take an enthusiastic pitch at any point, although he did sound very confident of what he was saying.

"Sie möchten helfen, Deutschland in den Ruhm zu führenm richtig, Herr Hauptmann?" the Gestapo officer asked. "Sie brauchen nicht Schmerz hier für eine leere Ursache zu erleiden... Viel größere Dinge warten auf Sie. Wenn Sie Ihren Dienst dem Führer verpfänden. Nach Deutschland. Das ist alles, alle anderen Dinge sind einfach ... sinnlos," Otto said, his voice calm and husky, hypnotic. The man paused again, letting out a sigh, as if he was genuinely wistful over the Hauptmann's current condition. Otto's shiny jackboots scraped slightly on the concrete floor as the man crouched down to take a better look at Wagner.

The Gestapo officer's dark eyes had little emotion in them and he did not seem spiteful, sad or amused by the sight of the heavily tortured man. It was as if he was just merely stating facts, merely wishing to make Wagner see things his way. The right way. The only way. "Der Führer kann diesen Halt machen. Ihr Vertrauen und Hingabe zu ihm werden Sie retten, Sie einen größeren und mehr ehrenhaften Mann machen, als Sie jemals ohne ihn sein konnten. Und Sie werden eine neue Chance bekommen, Deutschland zu helfen, einen ruhmvollen Sieg zu erreichen, Frieden auf unsere Länder wieder bringen," The expression on Otto's face changed for a brief moment, his eyes narrowing.

"Sie wissen, was Sie, Herr Hauptmann tun müssen. Sie müssen mir die Wahrheit sagen. Sie müssen Treue dem Führer verpfänden. Sie tun das, und ich werde einen Medizinstudenten auffordern, Ihre Wunden aufgepasst darauf haben und versprechen, dass Sie solchen Schmerz, solche unmenschliche Behandlung wieder nicht erleiden müssen. Oder... wir können mit Dingen auf die Weise fortsetzen sie sind... aber inzwischen müssen Sie bereits begriffen haben, dass es nur eine Weise gibt, dem Vaterland zu dienen."

Translations:

"Wir verließen ihn dort, um uns eine Zeit lang zu beruhigen..."
"We left him there to cool down for a while. Maybe he will co-operate a bit later."

"Sehr gut..."
"Very well. We will give him about an hour of time to think and then I will try talking to him again. You are certain he will not die of his injuries?"

"Oh Ja, wir sind sicher, Herr Kriminalkommissar..."
"Oh yes, we are sure, Herr Kriminalkommissar. He is a tough one."

"Demütigen Sie ihn und verlassen Sie mich mit dem Hauptmann, ich möchte mit ihm allein sprechen."
"Take him down and leave me with the Hauptmann, I wish to talk to him alone."

"Schauen Sie gerade auf sich selbst, Herr Hauptmann..."
"Just look at yourself, Herr Hauptmann. Must we go to these lengths to convince you that it is of little use standing up to the Führer?"

"Die ganze Zeit haben Sie das Verrotten in der Gefängniszelle, der fortdauernden Isolierung und dem Schmerz störrisch ausgegeben..."
"All this time you have stubbornly spent rotting in the prison cell, enduring isolation and pain, you could have been out there, serving and protecting the Fatherland. What has this all accomplished? The Reich produces proud men, true to their conviction, but it does not produce fools. We are the generation that will raise Germany to a new height, elevate the Germans to the position we rightfully deserve. This is the Führer's vision and to set one's personal goals and desires before something as glorious as this is foolishness."

"Sie müssen das sehen, Herr Hauptmann. Ich soll nur hier aburteilen und Sie Dinge klarer sehen lassen..."
"You must see this, Herr Hauptmann. I am only here to try and make you see things more clearly, I'm not here as your enemy. You wish to serve the Fatherland as much as I do, this I understand, but there is only one true way to accomplish this. You must be ready to sacrifice everything for Germany, obedient to the Führer. He has a great task upon his shoulders and we must do our utmost for him. Do you not wish to be out there, leading the proud German soldiers into battle for our beloved country? Not lying here on the floor in this pitiful state your blind hatred has reduced you to. If you are against the Führer, you are against Germany."

"Sie möchten helfen, Deutschland in den Ruhm zu führenm richtig, Herr Hauptmann?"
"You wish to help lead Germany into glory, do you not, Herr Hauptmann?"

"Sie brauchen nicht Schmerz hier für eine leere Ursache zu erleiden..."
"You do not need to endure pain here for an empty cause... Much greater things are waiting for you. If you pledge your service to the Führer. To Germany. That is everything, all other things are simply... meaningless."

"Der Führer kann diesen Halt machen..."
"The Führer can make this pain end for you. Your trust and dedication will save you, make you a greater and more honorable man than you could ever be without him. And you will get a new chance to help Germany achieve a glorious victory, bring peace upon our lands once again."

"Sie wissen, was Sie, Herr Hauptmann tun müssen..."
"You know what you must do, Herr Hauptmann. You must tell me the truth. You must pledge allegiance to the Führer. You do this and I will call for a medic, have your wounds taken care of and promise that you do not have to endure such pain, such inhumane treatment again. Or... we can continue with things the way they are... but by now you must have already realized that there is only one way of serving the Fatherland."

[Daniel Brennan]

Mod Post

CP:
Herr Wolff: 7CP


~Dan